The Mayan Prophecy
by Destroyer FireyDeath
Summary: On December 2012 the ancient Mayan calender will complete its thirteenth cycle. Archaeologist Igneel Dragneel dies certain of one fact: that, on this date, the human race will cease to exist. Destroyer and Natsu is unable to do anything locked in an asylum where they were wrongly incarcerated for the past eleven years. Two new people to help them, Lucy and Jackson.


**Destroyer: Yo~**

**Jackson: Hello**

**Regal: ...**

**Felix: Hi**

**Nathan: HIIIIIII!**

**Quinn: Hi...**

**Jackson: This is awkward**

**Destroyer: You made it awkward**

**Destroyer: New story! The Mayan Prophecy... I don't own the book which was made by Steve Alten! Nor do I own Fairy Tail**

* * *

_Journal of Igneel Dragneel_

_I stand before the vast canvas, sharing the feeling of loneliness its creator must have surely felt thousands of years ago. Before me lie the answers to riddles-riddles that many ultimately determine whether our species is to live or die. The future of the human race-is there anything more important? Yet I stand here alone, my quest condemning me to this purgatory of rock and sand as I seek communion with the past in order to comprehend the peril that lies ahead._  
_The years have taken their toll. What a wretched creature I have become. Once renowned archaeologist, now a laughingstock to my peers. A husband, a lover-these are but distant memories. A father? Scarcely. More a tortured mentor, a miserable beast of burden left to my son and his cousin to lead about. Each step across the stone-laden desert causes my bones to ache, while thoughts forever shackled in my mind repeat the maddening mantra of doom over and over in my brain. What high power has chosen my family and my cousins the Evans family among all others to torture? Why have we been blessed with eyes that can see signposts of death while others stumble along as if blind?_  
_Am I mad? The thought never leaves my mind. With each new dawn, I must force myself to reread the highlights of my chronicles, if only to remind myself that I am, first and foremost, a scientist, no, not just a scientist, but an archaeologist-a seeker of man's past, a seeker of truth._  
_But what good is truth if it cannot be accepted? To my peers, I no doubt resemble the village idiot, screaming warning cries of icebergs to passengers boarding the Titanic as the unsinkable vessel leaves the port._  
**(My neck is starting to hurt from reading the book and typing at the same time -D)**  
_Is it my destiny to save humanity, or simply to die the fool? Is it possible that I have spent a lifetime misinterpreting the signs?_  
_The scraping of footsteps on silica and stone gives pause to this fool's entry._  
_It is my son and his cousin. Named for an archangel and demon fifteen years ago by my beloved wife, Natsu nods at me while Destroyer stands there watching us, Natsu is momentarily warming his father's shriveled pit of a heart, Destroyer looks at me with sad eyes. Natsu is the reason I persevere, Destroyer is the reason I do not end my miserable existence. The madness of my quest has robbed him and Destroyer of their childhood, but far worse was my own heinous deed, committed years earlier. It is his and Destroyer's future that I recommit myself, it is his destiny along with Destroyer that I wish to change._  
_God, let this feeble heart last long enough to allow me to succeed._  
_Natsu points ahead while Destroyer stays in the shadows, reminding me of the next piece of the puzzle beckons us. Stepping carefully so as not to disturb the pampa, we stand at what I believe is the beginning of the 3,000 year-old message. Centered upon the Nazca plateau, laid sacred from the mysterious lines and colossal zoomorphs, is this-a perfect circle, carved deeply between the black-patina-coated stones. Extending out from this mysterious centerpiece like sunbeams from a child's painting are 23 equidistant lines, all but one running some 600 feet. One line is aligned with the solstice, another with the equino, variables consistent with the other ancient sites I've spent a lifetime exploring._  
_It is the 23rd live that is most intriguing-a bold carving within the pampa, extending over rock and hill for some 23 miles!_  
_Natsu shouts, his metal detector that Destroyer made erupting as we approach the center of the figure. Something has been buried beneath the topsoil! With renewed vigor, we dig through gypsum and stone, exposing the yellow dirt below. It is a heinous act, especially for an archaeologist, but I convince myself that the end shall ultimately justify the means._  
_And there it is, glistening beneath the broiling Sun. Smooth and white, a hollow cylinder of metal, a half meter long, that has no more right being on the Nazca dessert than I have. A three-pronged candelabra-like design adorns one end of the object. My feeble heart flutters, for I know the symbol as I know the back of my weathered hand. the trident of Paracas-the signature icon of our cosmic teacher. A similar glyph, 600 feet long, 200 feet across, adorns an entire mountainside not far from here._  
_Destroyer steadies her camera as I open the canister. Trembling I remove what appears to be a length of parched canvas, my fingers registering its disintegration as it begins to unravel._  
_It is an ancient chart of the world, similar to the very one referenced 500 years ago by the Turkish admiral, Piri Re'is. (This mysterious map was believed to have been inspiration for Columbus's daring expedition in 1492.) To this day, the 14th century Piri Re'is map remains an enigma, for upon it appeared not just undiscovered landmass of Antarctica, but the continent's geology, drawn as if the terrain possessed no ice. Satellite radar scans have since confirmed the incredible accuracy of the map, further baffling scientists as to how anyone could have drawn the charts without the aid of an airplane._  
_Perhaps the same way these very Nazca figures were drawn. Like the Piri Re'is map, the parchment I now balance in my hand was laid out using an advanced knowledge of spherical trigonometry. Was the mysterious cartographer our ancient teacher? Of this I have no doubt. The real question is-why has he chosen to leave us this particular map?_  
_Destroyer snaps a hurried Polaroid while she is still in the shadows as the ancient document singes, then crumbles to dust within my hands. Moments later we are left to stare at the photograph that Destroyer took, noting that an object, obviously of great importance, had clearly been highlighted. It is a small circle, drawn in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, situated just to the northwest of the Yucatan Peninsula._  
_The location of the mark startles me. This is not one of the ancient sites, this is something else entirely. A cold sweat breaks out over my skin, a familiar numbness rising up my arm._  
_Natsu and Destroyer senses death approaching. Natsu searches my pockets and quickly locates a pill and giving it to Destroyer, she places it beneath my tongue._  
_My pulse eases, the numbness retreating. I touch both Destroyer's and Natsu's cheek with both of my arms, then coax both of thme to return to work. With pride I watch as they both examine the metallic container-Destroyer's eyes, portal to an incredibly disciplined mind. Nothing escapes Destroyer's eyes. Nothing._  
_Within moments, Destroyer makes a discovery, one that may explain the location highlighted in the Gulf of Mexico. The metal detector that Natsu has, spectral analyzer has determined the molecular breakdown of the dense, white metal-its very composite, a story unto itself._  
_The ancient cylinder is composed of tridium._  
_Pure tridium._

_- Excerpt from the Journal of Professor Igneel Dragneel,_  
_June 14, 1990_

* * *

**Destroyer: That was long**

**Jackson: Next would be the prologue!**

**Destroyer: Fuck no!**

**Jackson: Why not?**

**Destroyer: Too much fucking writing!**

**Jackson: Typing**

**Destroyer: Fuck you**

**Jackson: -cries-**

**Nathan: BYE!**


End file.
